


Shipping Saturday Ficlets

by BabyBat (BabyBatsCreations)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Dark fic, Dark!Avengers, Dehumanization, Fluff, Gags, Glory Hole, Humiliation, Illusions, Incest Kink, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Requited Love, Sex Magic, Vampire AU, bimbofication, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBatsCreations/pseuds/BabyBat
Summary: New fics every Saturday, new ships every month. Themes are varied and can get quite dark. Warnings will be at the start of each chapter.June: SpiderstrangeJuly: SpiderioAugust: FrostIron
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Stephen Strange, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 162





	1. Spiderstrange- Denial

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Shipping Saturday where every month is a different ship and every Saturday another story. Ships and possibly even fandoms will change and grow with the series. Feel free to suggest your favorite ships. The only ships that you won't see here are starker and wincest because I write them pretty often already. The idea of Shipping Saturday is offer more varied works. Anyway, check tags before reading each fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen uses to magic to make Peter desperately horny, but unable to orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon, sex magic, bondage, sadism, dehumanization, dark!Stephen, sort of bimbofication, orgasm denial

He's tied up by invisible binds. He can't escape. He doesn't even know where he is. All he knows is that Stephen is leering at him and it's very clear that he's the one that did this. He wants him tied up. He wants him naked.

He kneels next to Peter on the bed.

"Don't be scared, spiderling. This won't hurt," he says.Which makes Peter afraid that he won't like anything Stephen is thinking. His fear his confirmed when his hand trails lightly down his belly and wraps around his cock.

"Feel that, Peter. You better soak it up because when I take my hand away, you're going to find this little cock of yours completely numb. No matter how hard you try, you won't feel a thing."He smiled as if they were friends. "Same for your prostate. In fact, you're never ever going to have another orgasm. The trouble is though, your body won't stop craving them." He says all of this while stroking his cock. "Your brain just won't understand why you can't get any release. You'll get hard and then, when wrapping your hand around your dick does nothing, you'll go flaccid and your skin will crawl with need."

Peter whines, disgusted as his body responds to his touch.

"I'm going to use you as much as I like. I'm going to fuck you and fill you with my cum knowing that you can't get off on it. In fact, I'm going to get off on knowing it."

Stephen stroked him and stroked him. He pumped him cock until his balls drew up with the intent to cum. Then he said, "Are you ready, Peter, for your new life. Here it comes. 1, 2, 3..." Then he let go.

\------------

That was a month ago. Now, Peter felt constantly on edge. His body craved sex, craved being filled. It was all the pleasure he could get. A cock rubbing against his sensitive insides. Despite that Stephen had done this to him and he should hate the man, he stuck by him like a starving dog.

He was always, always horny. He never stayed hard for long though.It was like his dick just knew it didn't matter. Half chub was what he considered his permanent state, but that was about it. Stephen liked to tease him for it. Stephen liked a lot of terrible things.

At this point, one month after losing the ability to orgasm, Peter didn't recognize himself. Literally and figuratively. He'd taken to wearing less, but more tightly fitting clothing. He payed way too much attention to his hair and skin. All of this was to make sure he could get Stephen's attention when the desperate sunk in and he couldn't take it any more. Not that there was ever any relief.Convincing Stephen to fuck him until he passed out was the closest he could get to relief and that was only because he was unconscious.

Then there were his thoughts. He never stopped thinking about sex and not in the normal eighteen-year-old way. He constantly felt cock drunk as if all he knew was sucking dick and taking dick. College was staring in the fall and he had no idea what he was going to do. He'd wondered a few times if he could make it through school by sleeping with teachers. Then May wouldn't be disappointed. Stephen wouldn't like it though. He was possessive.

Staring in the mirror at the boy who dressed in skinny jeans and av-neck, one size too small, Peter sighed. But his body promised pleasure that would never come if only he went to see Stephen.

"Not today, Peter," Stephen said before he offering a 'hello'. He didn't even look up from the book he was reading.

"Why not?" Peter tried not to pout. He tried to have some dignity.

Stephen snorted. "Why would I want you every day?"

Peter ground his teeth. He hated when he got like this. As if this were all Peter's fault and we was terribly inconvenienced by Peter's neediness.

Peter sat down on the table beside Stephen's open book. "Are you sure you don't want me?" Peter might have been cock addled and stupid the majority of the time, but he knew Stephen wouldn't have gone to so much trouble as to curse him if he didn't want him.

Stephen sighed. "Go jack off in the corner. Oh yeah..."He smirked.

Peter hopped down from the table. "Well, I have stuff I need to do at home so, if you're too busy, then I'll just go."

He thought he was calling Stephen's bluff, but he huffed when the man didn't follow him outside or try to stop him. In fact, he'd expected that walking through the door would have teleported him back to the library. No such luck. Not to be thwarted to easily, Peter looked up at the building. He ducked into the alley and quietly climbed up and into Stephen's bedroom window.

He lived simply, few material possessions. Part of his training was to do with valuing one's knowledge and abilities over stuff.Still, everyone has a bed and Peter plopped himself down on it. He stripped out of his clothes, cock jumping as the fabric brushed against it.

He couldn't help running his hands over his sensitive body. He lounged back on the bed and played with his nipples, hips rolling uselessly to grind his worthless cock against nothing. He found Stephen's lube and used it to finger himself. He rubbed his fingers over his prostate just to check, but of course he felt nothing. Not only did it not feel good, but the little spot was completely numb.

His dick hardened thanks to the friction, but when he wrapped his hand around it he felt nothing their either. He was completely numb everywhere it mattered no matter how much he tried to deny it. He wished he wouldn't work himself up like this, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop teasing his nipples of fingering his ass. He couldn't stop daydreaming about cock or about what orgasms used to feel like.

Time had no meaning. There was nothing, but Peter's need and the frustration he felt. When the bedroom door opened, it was growing dark outside the window.

"Have a nice day, little slut?" Stephen asked.

"Stephen, please," Peter gasped. "Fuck me please."

"Sorry, Pete. Not interested."

Peter slid off the bed and crawled to him. Up on his knees, he rubbed his face against Stephen's crotch. He was hard. He'd of course been aware of where Peter was and what he was doing.

"Spent all day thinking of you," Peter said. He mouthed at his hard cock through the fabric.

"You mean you spent all day thinking about my dick,"Stephen corrected.

"Let me please you."

"It's your own pleasure you want."

Peter looked up at him. "And you took it away."

That did the trick. Stephen expression turned from boredom to hunger. His hand held Peter's head in place as he ground himself against him.

"Take it out," he said.

Peter did as he was told, taking Stephen's cock from his pants and holding it in his hand. He wanted it bad, but he knew better than to put it in his mouth. Stephen gripped his hair and Peter opened his mouth.

"Needy bitch. Do you want my cock?"

"Uh huh," Peter said, tongue sticking out.

Stephen spit in his mouth and Peter dutifully swallowed it. He placed his cock on Peter's tongue and slow pushed in. He went until he gagged, then he stopped, forcing him to hold it there until he go this throat under control. Peter knew it was the only mercy he would be shown.

Stephen fucked his face, carelessly pushing into his throat and ignoring his gagging. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and road it out until Stephen pushed him away.

"Bed," he said.

Peter quickly and turned and climbed up on his hands and knees.His body was humming with needed. Frustration left him wanting to cry and he knew it would only get worse from here.

Stephen pushed his cock inside of him without a word. It was slick only with Peter's saliva. He moan, goosebumps crawling over his skin.

"Feeling good, doesn’t it? Being my cock sleeve."

"I hate you," Peter groaned.

"You're mine," Stephen answered.

It wasn’t fair, but he was right. Peter wasn’t going anywhere.Stephen would likely hunt him down if he tried.

Peter whined, fingers clawing at the bed as his body rocked with the force of Stephen's thrusts. Sometimes he felt the phantom twinge of what his prostate used to be, but it was useless. His cock used to drip while he was fucked, now it swung uselessly between his legs.

"Look at your sad little cock," Stephen noticed. "Can't even get hard anymore can it? What would be the point?"

Peter whimpered. He wanted to cum so badly. He wanted to cry when he thought of how he never would again.

"What if I made you a deal?" Stephen said.

"What- what kind of deal," Peter gasped.

Stephen slowed, grinding his hips against his ass, burying deep,making Peter weak with pleasure that would never be enough.

"If you can get your pathetic little dick hard before I get off, I'll let you cum just one last time."

Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Promise?"

"I swear it."

Peter wrapped a hand around his cock without another thought.Stephen laughed. "That's right, boy. Let's see if you can get it up."

Peter pumped his cock. He was probably being way to rough and trying to go way too fast, but he was excited and he was scared to miss the opportunity. He realized the game far too late. Had he been smarter, he could have easily worked himself up. His hands on his nipples and Stephen's cock in his ass could have been enough to make him hard. But he went for his cock. His useless, unfeeling, cock.Even now that he realized it, it was no use. He was too afraid of losing the opportunity to focus on pleasure. Fear was making thelittle chub he had go flaccid.

"What's wrong, Pete? Can't perform under pressure?"

"Just give me more time!" Peter begged, near hysterical.

Stephen laughed. "You're ass feels so good, baby. I'm so close. Are you close, too? Is it good for you, Petey?"

"Shut up!" Peter sobbed. He felt like he might cry, but he choked it back. He left his soft dick alone and tried focusing on his nipples. He closed his eyes and soaked up the friction in his ass that was becoming too dry. There wasn't enough time. Stephen was going to fast. Peter knew he was close. Despite always being on edge,he just couldn't do it.

"Come on, Pete. Cum for me. Let's see it. Let's see your big hard cock."

"Stop it," Peter choked. It was too cruel, but he just couldn't stop trying. He rocked back on Stephen's cock and he teased and pinched on one nipple. He tried to remember what real pleasure felt like. He tried to so hard.

Stephen's hands squeezed his hips. "Times up!" He pulled out and flipped Peter onto his back. He stared into his wet, burning eyes as he stripped his own cock. Then he came in wet spurts all over Peter's chest. He sighed his pleasure then he smirked down at him.

"That's how you do it, Pete."


	2. Spiderstrange- Glory Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen uses magic to punish Peter by using his mouth to please strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: it's consensual but has a dubcon vibe, bdsm

Peter knelt on hands and knees. Magic kept him in position. Around him was Stephen's bedroom and he was positioned on the floor. Stephen lounged back on the bed, reading a book. Every now and then Peter saw a flash of sparks as he practiced a new spell.

He couldn't close his mouth. Magic held it open just as surely as it locked his body in place. He strained against the bonds, but nothing moved. His muscles swelled and strained and despite his strength, nothing happened. He couldn't even close his mouth. It just hung open, drool starting to run over his bottom lip. He whined, annoyed by Stephen's creative new punishment.

"Be quiet, pet. Don't distract me or I'll make it worse for you," he said. "I don't want to hear a sound unless it's gagging."

Peter made a questioning sound.

"What did you think your mouth was open for? Catching flies?" His tone was condescending. Peter loved to hate it.

He tried to figure out what Stephen meant. He looked again at the swirl of magic in front of his face. It hurt his eyes to look straight down for too long, but he could see what it was now. He'd thought it was part of the spell that held him. Now he saw that it was a portal. His body was in Stephen's bedroom, but his mouth was somewhere else.

Peter whined in protest. Stephen waved his hand and Peter whined again as his ass was magically spanked.  
"I won't tell you again, pet."

Peter glared, but remained silent. Then he felt something touch his tongue. He flinched, but of course he couldn't pull away. Some stranger was putting their cock into his waiting mouth. Peter cringed at the strangeness of it all.

That cock kept coming, fed into his mouth as if he were just a waiting hole. He gagged, eyes flicking up to Stephen to see if were pleased with himself. He continued to read his book as if Peter weren't there.

The stranger on the other side of the portal fucked his mouth carelessly. He couldn't help his gagging and choking as it plundered his throat. He felt spit running down his chin and when he took a breath it was wet and gurgling.

It wasn’t long before they were cumming, pulling back to spurt thick globs right onto his tongue. Peter wrinkled his nose. He'd never been a fan of eating cum. Which was likely why Stephen had chosen this as a punishment. He considered spitting it on the floor as the cock slipped from his lips, but he dutifully swallowed, glaring at his boyfriend. Stephen smirked without looking his way.

The cocks kept coming. Some were slow, almost cautious. Some were ruthless enough that he couldn't get a breath in until they were done. One guy came just as soon as he touched the back of Peter's throat. The shock of it choked him when he felt cum in his mouth.

Stephen continued to ignore him for what felt like hours and added up to at least ten different dicks in his mouth. Then he finally put his book down.

"Feeling cowed yet? Learn your lesson?"

Peter huffed. He was stubborn. Despite that he knew Stephen was persistent, he still felt the need to fight. He wasn't tired enough to give in.

Stephen chuckled. "Well then, I supposed you won't mind spending the night as a glory hole. Try to keep down though. Some of us deserve rest."

He turned off the lamp beside his bed, leaving Peter in the dark aside from a string of moonlight coming in through the curtain. The spell continued to hold him.

Stephen slipped under the covers and lay still and quiet. Peter watched the dark lump on the bed waiting for him to say 'just kidding'. Instead, another cock plunged into his mouth and directly down his throat. His only retribution was knowing that his gagging was likely to keep Stephen up half the night.


	3. Spiderstrange- Eating Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's been put under a curse that makes everything he eats inedible... except for one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon, coerced sex, sex magic

Everything tasted like sand. Literally everything. His morning cereal, his glass of milk, the granola bar he tried instead. It was all sand. Peter was terrified. What was wrong with him that he couldn't taste anything? Google suggested cancer. So he called the only doctor he trusted.

"Oh dear," Stephen said. "It sounds like a spell I know... more like a curse I guess."

"Can you fix it?"

"Obviously. Come down to the sanctum. I'll fix you up."

Peter breathed again. "Thanks, Stephen."

"Don't mention it, kid."

Peter raced down to the sanctum, stomach growling. He let himself in and ran through the halls until he found Stephen in the kitchen.

"Here you are," he said. He offered Peter a glass of something that looked like a vanilla milkshake.

"Thanks, man." Relieved to finally be able to eat something, he guzzled it. It tasted like a vanilla milkshake. "Tastiest cure I've ever had. Thanks so much, Stephen. Seriously."

"Oh that wasn't the cure." He raised an eyebrow.

Peter set the empty glass down. "Then... what?"

"This curse," Stephen sighed. "It can't be cured. Only managed. It will most likely wear off, but it could take a week or two."

"Most likely?"

"Afraid so. If the caster intended it to, then it could be permanent." He frowned. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder as his heart sank.

"But, what am I supposed to do then?"

"You drank that milkshake just fine didn't you?"

"Yeah... why though?"

Stephen smirked. "Probably better if you don't know."

"Was there something in it?"

Stephen only looked at him without elaborating.

"Tell me, please. I have to know how to feed myself until this wears off."

"You might want to sit down." Peter plopped himself on a stool not wanting to deal with anymore delay. He stared at the man, waiting not at all patiently.

"It's semen."

"Uh... excuse me?"

Stephen nodded as if to say he'd heard correctly. "The spell, it requires that you ingest semen as sustenance. Mixing it with something will help, but you’re only getting nutrition from the semen itself. You'll need to eat again soon."

Peter stared, blinking, trying to figure out what language this man was speaking. "I'm sorry... what did you say?"

"I think it may be best for you to stay with me until this passes," Stephen suggested. "It will make things easier."

"Uh... you mean you... um." Peter scratched his neck. "You want to help me?"

"As magic is involved, I feel responsible. Of course I want to help."

"But..."

Stephen sighed. "Yes, Peter. I intend to feed you my semen for your own survival."

Peter grimaced. "And there's really no cure?"

\----------

Peter set himself up in a room inside the sanctum. He didn't speak to Stephen again for the rest of the day. His stomach was angry and empty by nightfall. He was in too much pain to move so he laid in bed, staring at the wall.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he wrapped his hand around his cock. Given the circumstances, it was hard for him to get it up, but he managed after a while. When he came, he made sure to catch it all in his hand. He licked it from his skin, tentatively at first, then the hunger got to him and he slurped it up. He was still hungry, but he wouldn't ask Stephen for his help. He couldn't ask that of him.

The next morning, Stephen offered him another milkshake. He was too hungry to refuse.

"That's a good boy," Stephen praised as he chugged it.

Peter's face turned red. Knowing what was in the mixture was equally gross and exciting.

"Don't starve yourself again today. You have to eat."

Peter cringed. "No, offense, but I think I'm just going to ride it out."

He made it as long as dinner. When Stephen texted him to come to dinner, Peter dragged himself from his room. The pair sat at the table together. Peter was uncomfortable, but Stephen seemed as cool and confident as ever.

There was a milkshake waiting for him on the table while Stephen ate real food. It felt so much worse like this. Watching Stephen watch him guzzle down his cum through a straw while he chewed a marinated chicken breast. Peter forced himself to act normal. Like a person who was okay with eating cum for dinner while chatting about the astronomical event that Stephen was tracking.

He went to his room, ignoring his aching stomach, ignoring that he wasn’t eating enough. It took three days of near starvation to break him.

He went to Stephen, hands shaking from low blood sugar, swaying a bit on his feet. The man sighed. "Peter, you need more," he scolded.

"I know," he blushed. "You think you could help me?" He cringed to say the words out loud.

"Of course I can. Come here." He spread his legs where he sat, inviting Peter between them. He slowly unzipped his pants. Peter's face burned. "Not to be presumptuous, but you have done this before haven't you?"

Peter nodded, not wanting to talk about it, but also unwilling to drag it out when he felt so sick.

"Good. Then you know what to do."

Peter placed his hands on Stephen's knees. He carefully lowered himself down, kneeling between his legs. His eyes tracked Stephen's movements as his hands pulled out his cock. Peter balked. He wasn’t sure when the last time he'd blown someone was, but it had been a while. He sat, jaw clenched, unsure how to continue.

Stephen's hand curled under his chin. "It's okay, Peter. It's just you and me. I'm here to help, not to pass judgment."

"I just..." Peter turned his head to one side.

"Whatever you do will be perfect."

His hesitation seemed silly now with Stephen being so kind and patient. He wasn't sure if Stephen even liked him this way or if he was uncomfortable at all, but he had promised to help. It was the least Peter could do to help him in return. He couldn't be expected to jack off every time Peter got hungry.

Stephen's skin was salty on his tongue. He concentrated on licking and sucking, trying to get the man hard, without thinking too much. Once he remembered that this was what it took to fill his growling stomach and stop his head from spinning, it was easy to lose his reservations.

Stephen sighed, sitting back in his seat. His cock was starting to harden. Peter took it into his mouth, suckling on the head. His hand stroked the length, coaxing it to full hardness. Then he took him deeper. He was only nearly at the base when it hit throat and made him gag. The sound of Stephen's moan made him blush.

"That's it, Peter. Keep going," he said.

Eager to fill his stomach, Peter went down again. He fought down his gag reflex, pressing his nose into Stephen's skin as he took his cock down his throat.

"Good boy," he gasped. "So good, Peter."

He pulled up, sucking in a breath and quickly diving down again. The taste of precum made his stomach rumble louder. Relief was so close.

He whined, afraid, when Stephen gripped the back of his head and pulled him down. He tried to relax and let him use him. Stephen used his mouth, pushing into his throat and fucking it.

"Fuck. Such a good mouth."

He let Peter up for air, but he didn't bother with breathing for long before he was slurping him back down. He looked up to see wide eyes watching him with hunger. He swallowed down his cock, working him quickly with his hand. Stephen's breath started to come faster. Then held Peter's head in place, cumming onto his tongue.

He gulped down every drop without spilling, too hungry to consider anything else. Finally, the pain receded. 

Peter laid his head against Stephen's leg. The wizard pet his hair.

"That's a good boy, Peter. You did so well. I'll sure this spell will wear off soon..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think next week we'll have a little fluff... as a treat.


	4. Spiderstrange- Requited love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not possible that Stephen is kissing him right now. Or maybe it... maybe it just means something different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute requited love warning?

First, there was the cut of his jaw. Then, the intensity of his eyes. His voice was deep, with a gravely edge that could lull you into a trace. Peter swore that when he looked at him he tasted something bitter and earthy. Like black coffee or leather.

Peter wasn’t sure what universe he'd been dragged into or what timeline, but this couldn't be his reality. Not when Stephen's hands were holding his face, his neck. He was drawing closer. His name slipped from Stephen's lips. Peter shivered. His lips parted because he couldn't get enough air.

Their lips pressed together. Peter felt softness, heat, the scratch of his beard. His body drew close, soaking up the contact that he was starving for. One of Stephen's hands slid down his back to his waist, holding him against him.

Their lips moved, in smooth, warm presses. Peter's head spun. He lost himself to the sensation. He could have stayed, up on his toes, weight against Stephen's warmth, forever and never noticed how much time had passed.

Stephen's breathing was labored when they stopped. It took a moment for Peter's spinning head to realize his was, too. He'd never been kissed like that before. He'd never felt like kind of intensity. He could almost mistake it for passion.

"Stay with me tonight," Stephen said. Peter staring into the shining pools of his eyes.

"I shouldn't," Peter answered. He couldn't stand the rejection that would come in the morning. Stephen was gorgeous and talented. He was everything Peter wasn’t.

"Don't take this as begging, but please." His smile was playful. Peter was wasn’t sure if he was teasing him. "At least stay a little longer. Sit and talk with me."

"Talking sounds like it would lead to more kissing in this context."

Stephen blinked, smile fading. His hand slipped from Peter's waist. "Right, of course. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Peter shook his head. "No, it's okay. I wanted you to." Feeling too awkward to do anything else, Peter headed for the door. "It was a nice fantasy."

He stepped outside into crisp New York air. He inhaled deep and let it all out in a sigh. It was going to be one depressing walk home. He took the first step and froze in place as orange sparks appeared in front of him.

"When you say 'fantasy'," Stephen said stepping out onto the sidewalk. "What exactly do you mean?"

Peter blushed. "You don't... I mean, you don't want me like that. Like romantically... I mean. You uh... I mean, it's fine if you just wanted to _kiss_ , or whatever, but I uh- I mean-"

Stephen cut him off by grabbing his arm and dragging him inside via the portal. The change of scenery threw him for a second. Stephen paced a few steps away before coming straight back.

"Peter do you want me?" he said.

"Uh..." Peter took a step back, eyes wide. He didn't know where this was going. He wasn't sure if he should tell the truth. He didn't know what would happen.

"I know you do, you don't have to say so. I'm kind of an expert at this stuff. But you seemed worried about the kissing so I assumed that you had someone to make you worry, Michelle perhaps?"

"Huh?" Peter followed the rambling of Stephen's words, unsure what he meant. "No, MJ and I, that's old news. I mean we haven't been like that since high school. We're just friends and I mean barely since we talk like once a week."

Stephen stared while he talked. "You're not seeing anyone?"

"No."

"But you don't want to stay tonight?"

Peter's heart skipped a beat. Did Stephen think he was rejecting him? He supposed he had in a way, but his intention had been to protect himself.

"It's complicated."

"Explain it to me. My ego is at stake." His mouth twitched, but the smile didn't hold.

"Of course I want you," Peter scoffed. "Who wouldn't want you." He caught Stephen trying not to preen, though he did straighten his posture.

"You don't want me."

Stephen came a step closer. His voice was lower, more gentle. "I wouldn't have asked you to stay if I didn't want you."

Peter shook his head. "Sure, for tonight and that's fine. I'm not judging. I just... I'm not the one night stand type."

"Peter." Stephen came close enough that Peter backed into the table behind him. "Then we want the same thing."

"What?"

"I asked for tonight, but only so I could ask again tomorrow and next weekend and whenever you're available."

"Why?"

"Because you're perfect, Peter." His hand touched his face, but it felt too hot.

"No, I'm not."

"You're so kind and smart. And you throw yourself into danger to protect every life around you. Who else could stand up to the greatest threat in our universe while cracking the most childish jokes? My Peter. Always laughing. Always brave."

Peter swallowed. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t fair. He was going to open his eyes and wake up. Instead he opened his eyes and say those same intense eyes, a few worried wrinkles, a touch of gray in otherwise black hair. A real man, not a fantasy and not a dream. Just Stephen telling him that he loves him.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Peter smiled. "I love you, too, Stephen."

"That's not what I said," he answered, but his lips pulled up in a smile.

"You don't have to." He wrapped his arms around the man, overjoyed when Stephen did the same. "But, I was promised talking which leads to kissing if I stayed. And what do you know, I'm still here."

Stephen grinned. And then he kissed him.


	5. Spiderio: Incest Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has an unholy crush on his father, Tony. His boyfriend Quentin has a proclivity for illusions. This doesn't make for a healthy combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon, incest fetish, daddy kink, gaslighting

"Quentin?" Peter eyes the shadow standing in his doorway. The outline looks like his boyfriend, but he doesn't come into the room and the light is behind him. "Quen?"

"Peter," answers a voice that is not his boyfriend's. As the man comes into the room, Peter sees him in the light of his bedside lamp.

"Dad? You're back already?"

He smiles. "I missed you, kid. I can't stand being away from you."

It's his voice, but the cadence is slightly off. "Have you been drinking?" He asks cautiously.

"What? It's weird for me to miss you?" he scoffs. He sounds more like himself and Peter calms. Maybe he was imaging things.

Tony sits down on the edge of the bed. "Come here." He pats the bed beside him.

Peter crawls over to him, sitting at a comfortable distance.

"No, here," he says, grabbing his ankle to drag him closer. Peter's forehead scrunches as he tries to figure it out. His dad's looking at his face, at his mouth, his gaze is so focused, so intense. If he didn't know better he'd think he was about to kiss him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. There's nothing wrong," he says. Then he does something impossible. He kisses him.

It's nothing like Peter's fantasies. Instead of being overwhelmed with passion and love, he feels cold fear. He's frozen, unyielding. His father is forceful, not caring if he kisses him back. He takes what he wants.

Peter tries to move away and Tony grabs his arm and holds him. His grip is so tight that it's scary. A terrified whimper passes his lips and his father moans as if it were a passionate sound. He pushes forward, leaning Peter back so that he's on top of him.

Peter pushes him back, both hands on his chest. "Dad, stop! What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you, Petey," he chuckles. "Isn't this what you always wanted?"

Heat burns in his cheeks. Yeah, he did want his own father like a freak, but not like this. This was wrong. "Let's just talk about this okay?"

"Why talk when we can do so much more?"

He kisses him again and again Peter refuses to kiss him in return. Giving up on his lips, he carries his kiss down his neck. Peter shivers, touch starved body dying for a loving touch. Quentin never gave him what he needed. But he did kiss like Peter wasn’t even there. Like his dad was doing now...

"Quen?" Peter gasps.

"Call me daddy," he says into Peter's neck. Then he raises his head and his eyes are the same blue as his boyfriend's.

"Quentin? What the fuck? Get off me!"

His boyfriend laughs. "I'm just giving you what you want, Peter. Daddy won't touch you like you dream about, so let me."

"You're not him- don't pretend to be!"

"Ah, sweetie, did I hurt you? Did you think for a second maybe daddy really did want you? Poor Peter." He smirks and the sight makes him nauseous. His father never looks at him like that, as if he were a joke or, better yet, the punch line.

"Get the fuck off me!"

"Come on, Petey. Let's play pretend. Don't want to feel your daddy's dick inside you? I know you do."

He hates the way, Quentin hovers over him, waiting for an answer, waiting for him to admit that he wishes this were real, that he wishes his father wanted him. Peter turns his head away and Quentin laughs. When he kisses his neck, Peter shivers. He grinds his teeth to stop little noises from escaping him.

Quin purrs and his voice is exactly his father's. Peter's only heard his father's voice this way through closed doors on the occasions that he brought home a 'friend'. It's low and suggestive and makes him weak.

"Do you want me, baby? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"Please, Quen..."

"Ah ah. I said, call me daddy."


	6. Spiderio- Train Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't trust his own mind when his boyfriend Quentin is around. Sometimes that means being confused as to whether or not they're truly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon, coerced sex, gaslighting, public sex, humiliation

"Come on, Petey. Don't be a prude."

Peter pushes his boyfriend away, but it's half hearted. He hates saying no to him. Not because he doesn't mean it, but because he really does feel bad for not giving him what he wants. Quentin ignores his hands. He keeps leaning in, kissing his neck, searching for just the right spot. Peter's knees go weak when he finds it. Quentin laughs.

"See, you love it when I touch you." One of his hands rubs Peter's waist, the other rubs his thighs.

"Yeah, but..." Peter's face burns like fire. "Someone could see."

"Do you see anyone, baby? We're all alone."

Peter looked around the subway car for the hundredth time. It was one-hundred-percent empty and so was the one behind it. It was odd, too. This time of day, there wasn't usually a full car, but he'd never seen it empty before. He could have sworn he'd heard a cough a few months ago, too.

Quentin's hand slipped between his thighs. His fingers teased traced teasing lines through his jeans. He pulled Peter's ass back against his crotch. He could feel him getting hard in his pants.

Peter gave in, quietly moaning while Quentin sucked on the skin of his neck. "You're going to look like such a whore with all these hickies on your neck tomorrow."

Peter shivered. He never liked Quentin's penchant for name calling, but the man swore it was something he couldn't help when he got excited. He promised that he didn't mean anything by it. How could he? He loved Peter.

His hand started to palm his cock. Peter tried to push his hand away, but Quentin stop him. "Just relax, baby. I've got you."

His hand massaged his cock and Peter sighed. He didn't see the point in making a fuss. Up until Quentin took it out of his pants. He tired to push his hands away and cover himself.

"Quentin, stop," he huffed, embarrassed and panicking.

"Oh, Peter. You're being so ridiculous. No one can see you." He slapped Peter's hand. He sighed and gave in. Quentin stroked him. "There's a good boy."

He let it happen, closing his eyes and pushing down panic. Quentin pumped his cock while he ground Peter's ass back against him. They really were alone so it really was okay. Maybe... But of course, Quentin never knew when to quit and Peter didn't have it in him to fight anymore when the man pulled his pants down to his knees.

"Quen..." he whined, but it was all he could do.

"Shh, be a good boy. It's just you and me, baby."

He was scared. Nothing that was happening felt right. Nausea bubbled up in his throat when he felt Quentin's cock press against his hole. Still he let the man lean him forward, hands gripping the pole in front of him.

Quentin sighed. "Yeah, there we go. Such a nice tight little cock sleeve. Can't believe you would try to keep this from me."

"We shouldn't do this here," Peter argued. He whimpered when Quentin slapped his ass.

"But look how good you look with your ass stuffed full. You were made to take cock. My cock." He grabbed Peter's hair and turned his head to look at the reflection in the window. He could see Quentin's wild grin. At least one of them was happy.

The cock in his ass felt good and it only made him give in more and more. He gripped the pole, moaning each time he thrust in.

"That's it, Petey. There's a good slut. You're such a little whore, letting me fuck you on the subway."

Peter whimpered, feeling humiliated. It felt so good, though. The fucking at least. He was still uncomfortable with doing this in public.

Quentin fucked him, thrusting in deep like he was getting close. He groaned, cumming inside him. He patted Peter's ass. "Such a good hole," he said.

He pulled himself out of Peter's ass and fixed his pants. Then he pulled Peter’s up, too, leaving his cum to drip out into his underwear and his cock hard and trapped. He wanted to get off, but he was too embarrassed to touch himself here. He knew Quentin knew it, too. He looked so pleased with himself.

They arrived at the station and Quentin ushered Peter out the door. When he looked back, he saw other people who hadn't been there before start to file out. Many of them were red faced and pointedly looked everywhere but at them.


	7. Spiderio- A/B/O Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter barely knows Quentin. He's not sure if he wants to be married to him and he's even less sure that he wants to have sex with him, but it's never mattered much what an omega wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: forced drinking, noncon, gross social pressures

Their wedding was quick and dirty. Which was exactly how Peter felt. He stood in the crisp white suit of a newly wed omega. The small gathering clapped their hands for the new union. Quentin's blue eyes sparkled in the light of the candles that surrounded them. Peter forced a smile.

There wasn’t a reception. Quentin didn't want one. Peter hadn't been given much time to plan so he'd thought it was a blessing at the time. Now, he wasn’t so sure. There was a knot in his stomach and he didn't know if he wanted to cry or throw up. The whole marriage had happened to fast.

He and Quentin had met on pure happenstance. They bumped into each other in a fast food restaurant. Quentin joked that an omega should be more careful about what they eat. Peter had chuckled nervously and Quentin's expression had quickly shifted to something pleasant. Something that Peter had believed to be love at first sight. He'd apologized and asked for Peter's number. Not wanting to be rude, he gave it to him.

Three weeks later, Quentin was petitioning his parents for his hand. With no reason to refuse him, they gave it willingly. The wedding was a week from then. One month. That's as long as he had known Quentin Beck before taking his last name.

A white limousine picked them up outside the church. Peter made himself small in his seat while Quentin cracked a bottle of champagne and lit a cigarette. Peter refused both. Quentin didn't like that. He grabbed Peter's chin and put the glass to his lips. He tipped it back and Peter swallowed until the glass was empty. It went straight to his head, filling him with warmth and a confusing tingle.  
Quentin joked and laughed about things Peter wasn’t coherent enough to understand. He smiled. It felt like a real smile.

By the time they got to the hotel, the alcohol had worn off, leaving only a warm residue. Quentin insisted on carrying him from the limo to their room. Peter blushed, clinging to his shoulders.

Quentin winked at a concierge. "Can't have him running off can we." Peter didn’t laugh, but they did.

The honeymoon suite was beautiful. There were white, pale pink, and blue flowers all over the room. The bed was a big white heart. Quentin set him down on the bed and went to open another bottle of champagne. He gulped down two big swallows and hooted.

He turned to Peter with a grin. "My blushing bride! How does it feel? Does your heart beat for me, dearest?"

Peter's heart was certainly pounding faster than it ever had before. His muscles ached, adrenaline rushing through him. He nodded to his husband, hoping to please him.

Quentin came to bed with the bottle. He put it to Peter's mouth and this time he dutifully drank it down until Quentin took it away. He chugged quite a lot of it himself before setting it on the floor.

Both of his hands grabbed Peter's face and forced a kiss on him. It was painful and sloppy. He kissed too hard and too carelessly. He pushed Peter back on the bed and one of his hands started to grope under his suit.

"Quen... slow down," Peter said. He could feel himself shaking.

"Shh, be good," the alpha said.

The alcohol made his head foggy and all he could do was give in, be still, let Quentin touch him. Not that he had any right to stop him. It was his wedding night. They're supposed to mate. He's supposed to let Quentin claim him. Despite that he barely knows this man. This man who took him away from everything he knew and everyone he loved.

"I'll be good," he said, closing his eyes and letting his legs fall open. He could do his duty as husband and omega. He didn't have to like it. He just had to be good.


	8. Spiderio- Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin is a big fan of football parties. Or maybe he's a big fan of inviting over all his friends to use and humiliate Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: dubcon, pissplay/drinking, bondage, forced alcohol 'consumption', dehumanization

He was strapped down. Upside down, hanging off the table. His head dangled on one side while his legs hung off the other. Wrists and ankles were tied to the legs of the table and they'd strapped a belt around his chest just to hold him tighter. The dental gag in his mouth, kept it open wide, wide enough to be cruel. But that was what they wanted. That was what entertained them.

Quentin loved his little football parties. They had one nearly every Sunday, rain or shine. Peter was always the centerpiece. Mostly ignored, but always humiliated.

Quentin was currently holding his cold beer over his chest and letting it drip icy water onto his skin. This was just after using him as a tray for his bowl of chips. He relaxed for a moment as the water stopped dripping only to get the wind knocked out of him when Quentin leaned back in his seat and kicked his feet up on Peter's stomach.

Quentin went back to ignoring him, making Peter jump as he hollared at the tv along with his friends. Someone set a beer on his chest, below the collar bone. It sat dripping for a moment. Then someone yelled and Peter jumped and the bottle toppled over.

"Oh, Peter. You really shouldn't have done that," Quentin said. His voice took on that monotone Peter had come to fear.

He tried to apologize around the gag, but he knew it was useless. Quen grabbed the buckle of the belt and yanked it off of him. He tore at the binds around each of his limbs until they came loose.

"Turn over." He folded the belt over in his hand.

Peter shivered. He rolled over in the mess of beer. His skin was sticky with it. He was barely in position before Quentin hit him. The belt was merciless against his skin and left him panting.

"If the boy likes wasting beer, Quen," one of his friends interrupted, "I know what we can do with him."

Quentin backed off, dropping the belt. "Oh yeah?"

The man picked up the spilled bottle from the floor. A small amount of beer still sloshed inside. Cruel laughter spread around the room leaving Peter feeling cold.

He whined as the hard glass of the bottle touched his ass. It was pressed way too hard against his opening until it was forced inside. They all laughed and cheered the guy on as tears burned in Peter's eyes. He tried to relax, tried to focus on breathing. It slid in deeper, bubbly beer starting pour out inside him. At least it slicked the way for the rest of the bottle neck.

He felt the wider part of the bottle bump against him, but it wasn't over. It was pulled back and slowly pushed in again.

"Bet you can get the wider part in that whore's ass," someone suggested.

"Let me see that," Quentin shoved him out of the way and took over. He pulled the bottle from Peter's ass and turned it around. He stuffed his fingers inside instead. "I don't want him torn loose. I want to feel something when I put my dick in there."

As they turned their attention back to the game, Quentin kept working Peter open with his fingers. He wasn't gentle or careful about it. His fingers stretched him wide enough to burn almost tearing at the rim. He whined Quentin forced his knuckles inside. Someone picked up the belt and struck his thigh with it telling him to shut up.

The game was haulted as coaches scrambled to make a call on something Peter didn't see or care about.

"Piss break," of Quentin's boys declared. He unzipped and stucked his half hard dick in Peter's face.

He wrinkled his nose, but he kept still, unwilling to get earn another beating. Piss splashed his chin before it landed on his tongue. He struggled to swallow it fast enough and a few drops ran down his chin leaving him stinking with it.

"My turn." Another stepped up and Peter braced for another round. Each of Quentin's friends took a turn, filling his stomach with piss until it sloshed when he moved. He was distracted by being used as a urinal that he didn't notice what Quentin was doing until it was over.

His hand was gone from his hole and the hard glass of the bottle was starting to push inside. He bit down on the gag as it was forced in.

"Look at that," Quentin said. "A bit of coaxing and you'll take anything won't you?"

There was some scattered whistling and hooting that drowned out the sound of Peter panting and moaning as his body stretched around the bottle. Quentin slapped his ass and he moaned despite the sharp sting.

"Looks like he's tipsy from that beer."

"Or all the beer in your piss."

"I didn't have that much yet!"

"You think we can get him drunk through his ass?"

They pulled the bottle out and Peter really fucking wished they'd go back to ignoring him. Instead they cracked open the top and stuffed it inside him, letting beer bubble and foam its way into his intestines. They opened another and forced it in beside the first, spilling beer down his thigh.

Quentin walked around to his front and gripped a fist full of his hair. "Enjoying the party, Petey?" He spit in his forced open mouth. "You will be before long."


	9. FrostIron- Vampire Au pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where Frost Giants are like vampires because I said so, Loki seeks Tony out for help with a little problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: nonconsensual blood drinking

"Sir, I believe Loki is trying to gain access to the elevator," Friday announced.

"Really?" Tony looked at the elevator behind him. He couldn't imagine what Loki could possibly want from him, but they had a sort of truce and Loki seemed to respect him. They had something of an understanding on the grounds of shitty fathers. "Let him up."

"Are you sure, sir?" she cautioned.

"Yeah, could be important. Or he could be here to destroy another penthouse of mine."

After a moment, the elevator chimed. Loki stumbled out, skin blue-gray. He seemed too weak to stand and would likely fall at any moment as he fought to carry himself forward.

"Stark," he called, voice strained. "Please!"

Tony ran to him, catching him in his arms and holding his weight so his legs wouldn't crumbled. "What happened?"

He tried to lead Loki to the couch, but he was quickly losing the ability to move his legs and Tony was left dragging him.

"So hungry."

"Yeah, I doubt a bull of Wheaties is what you need right now."

When Loki looked up, his eyes were red. First the red of burst blood vessels, then the color of his irises appeared changed. He didn't know much about Frost Giant anatomy, but still he'd never seen that before. Loki breathed in through his nose.

"I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry, Stark."

"What are you talking about? Are you in trouble?"

"I am trouble," Loki wheezed.

"Don't I know it."

Loki's face pressed against his neck. Tony wanted to push him away, but he knew he would fall if he did. "Alright, buddy, let's get you some place to sleep while I-"

Tony's words were bitten off by a hiss of pain. Loki's teeth dug into his skin and tore into his flesh. He tried to push him off, but despite how weak he had seemed, his grip was too strong. Loki held him pinned in place.

He felt the coldness of blood leaving his body too quickly. Then something good, something euphoric passed through his brain. It wasn’t so different from the rush of chemicals during an orgasm, only it didn't end. His body melted against Loki's. He thought he might fall, but Loki seemed strong enough now to hold them both up.

Tony blushed at the sound of his own moaning, his own whimpers of pleasure and fear. It was humiliating and he never wanted it to stop.

He grew weak, tired, eyes heavy. Then he slowly drifted off.

He woke in his bed, Friday's voice chirping in panic.

"Sir? Sir? How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, Fri," he groaned.

"You suffered significant bloodloss."

"What happened?" Tony rubbed a hand over his face, then he dropped back again into the bed. He felt heavy.

"Loki attacked you, sir. He fed on your blood as if a vampire. Then he carried up blood from the medical bay and asked me to explain to him how to perform a transfusion."

"He attacked me and then saved me." Tony sighed. "Nothing is ever straight forward with him."

"I'm afraid not, sir. He's waiting for you in the lounge when you are ready, though I strongly suggest getting more rest."

"No," Tony groaned as he pushed himself up. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. "I'm up." His fingers traced the mark in his arm where the needle must have gone in for the transfusion. He was lucky he kept his blood type on hand.

He left the bedroom and walked to the lounge. Loki was on the couch, leaning against one arm having fallen asleep almost sitting up.

"So, god or mischief," Tony started. Loki startled awake.

"Stark, you're awake." He looked up at him.

"You seem relieved. So you weren't trying to kill me?"

"I can understand your concern, but no that wasn't my intention. I didn't know where else to go."

"Tell me what happened?"

"It's complicated."

"So you came here for?"

Loki sighed. "Every so many years the frost giant in me takes over. I start to, crave living blood."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Like a vampire?"

"Yes, exactly. I get terribly sick if I don't get it."

"And you came here because I'm the tastiest person you know?"

"I came here because I know that you understand what it feels like to believe that you're a monster."

Tony clenched his jaw, turning his face away. Of course, he knew Loki was right. "Fine. How can I help?"

"I don't need much. Just someone to keep an eye on me for a week or so. It should pass by then. I'll need blood. You may want to find some way to contain me if I get out of hand."

"You mean if you try to drink someone else like a juice box?"

Loki smiled. "Exactly."


	10. FrostIron- Dehumanization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki needs punished after his crimes. The Avengers leave his punishment up to Tony who had some creative ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon, bondage, humiliation, dehumanization, dark!Avengers

Loki pouted, lips drawn into a frown around the dental gag in his mouth. He missed the muzzle. Neither was dignified, but at least it didn't leave his mouth gaping open. There was drool running down his chin. He cringed to feel it sliding over his skin.

He understood the cuffs keeping his arms behind his back, but was the collar necessary? Stark had seemed so smug and amused as he snapped it around his neck and chained him to the wall.

"I warned you not to mess with us. You fuck with us, fuck with the Earth, and we fuck you." He'd shot him a wink and promised him 'later'. Loki rolled his eyes at the memory. Smug little Midguarian.

Then there was Thor who had watched the whole thing. He'd had his reservations about this form of punishment, but in the end he had agreed it was fair that Earth be allowed to punish him by their customs. Loki was certain this wasn’t some ordinary human punishment. This was Stark fucking with him like he'd promised.

Now he was bare, naked, and exposed. They left him chained this way, kneeling on the bathroom floor. "See how you enjoy kneeling," that Steve Rogers had grinned with that glittering smile.

He started to doze before he had his first visitor. He groaned to find Stark staring down at him, slapping his cheek.

"Rise and shine! Time to test out our newly installed cum dump. You ready for it?"

Loki cringed to see his dick out and in his hand. He'd gotten hard just looking at him he supposed. Sadist. He cursed him, but with the gag, it sounded pathetic and whiny.

"Don't be like that. You're gonna love it!"

He winced as the taste of flesh overwhelmed his mouth. At least he tasted clean and not like the dirt and sweat he expected. He tried to bite but the gag stopped his mouth from closing. Stark sighed in exaggerated pleasure.

"Not the best mouth I've had, but that's not really the point is it?" He fucked his throat, drawing all sorts of humiliating sounds from him. Loki glared up at him, refusing to let Stark break him. He wouldn't allow himself to be humble no matter what was done to him.

"Ya know, you're kind of pretty on your knees. Who knew? Hard to believe you could have destroyed the world. You're just as soft as anyone else on the inside. Your mouth was made for fucking."

Loki's eyes burned with tears as Stark buried himself in his throat until he couldn't breathe. He groaned with pleasure. Loki's skin crawled, teeth aching to bite down. He could only gag and wretch. A river of spit flooded his mouth. He couldn't breathe. Stark smirked, watching his face, watching him try not to panic. He didn't, he refused. Stark wouldn't let him suffocate. His brother wouldn't allow it. Would he? He wasn't sure if he knew anymore. His head felt dizzy.

Stark pulled back and all that spit ran down his chin, dropping in a glob onto his own thighs. Stark slapped him with his cock, a humiliating action Loki has never considered before.

"We should let the rest of New York in on this. Set you up at a glory hole. Or just hook you up to a machine and live stream it. You owe them for the mess you made, the lives that were lost. Any one of them is worth ten of you."

He closed his eyes. He wouldn't let Stark get to him. He wouldn't. His cock filled his mouth again, running over his tongue until he could taste nothing else, prodding at the back of his throat so that he gagged on every thrust. Loki twisted his arms, but couldn't get free of the cuffs. He could cry, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't.

Stark's hand gripped his hair, pulling at his scalp. He used it like a handle to move his head back and forth, using his mouth.

"That's it. We finally found a better use for that mouth." Stark groaned. Loki hoped he was close so they could be done. He'd rather be left alone in the dark than suffer for some mortal man's pleasure.

When he did finally cum it was with a hand pulling his head back by his hair and his hand on his dick. He stroked himself until he came, splattering it over Loki's skin. Some landed in his mouth and he swallowed it, unable to spit around the gag. Some landed on his eye gooping it shut.

Stark smirked down at him. "Yeah, that's a good look for you, you son of a bitch." He snapped a picture on his phone. "Don't wanna forget your first time. I'll be back later when I need to take a piss."

He let the room, turning off the light and locking the door behind him. Loki leaned back against the wall and tried not to think.


	11. FrostIron- Vampire Au pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki have found a solution to Loki's thirst for blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: vampire!Loki, blood drinking

"Ahh, Loki," Tony moaned, thighs squeezing around his waist. He let his head fall back, neck exposed. Loki bit down through the skin. There was pain as it tore, then a rush of pleasure. He gasped body going lax, limp, unable to struggle in the slightest. Loki held him close.

His teeth released after a moment. "Can you handle more, Stark?"

"Oh yeah," he breathed. "Yes, please."

Loki smiled. His lips brushed over his neck. He caught Tony's hand and brough his wrist to his lips. Then he bit down, breaking through the skin. Tony gasped, then moaned. A small whine escaped him as he came once again, the sticky mess between them growing. Loki licked away the blood on his skin.

"More," Tony demanded.

Loki chuckled. "I know this must be terrible for you."

"Oh definitely," Tony panted. "So awful." His vision was blurred with tears of pleasure. "Please don't stop."

Loki slipped down between his legs and licked a spot on his thigh. "What about here?"

"Please."

He scraped his teeth over the skin. Tony shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Everywhere, wherever you want."

"Who knew the great Tony Stark was so submissive."

"I knew," Tony smirked. Loki bit down. His whole body shook, reaching the tipping point of yet another orgasm. Loki's bite released before he could reach it.

"Please, Loki, please," he panted. He stared down at him.

Loki smirked. "Listen to you. How you beg." His hand slid over Tony's calves. "If I give you what you want, what will you give me?"

"I thought my blood was enough."

"I drank my fill long ago. Should I stop then?"

"No! No, please. Loki," he begged.

"My name like a prayer on your lips." He ran his tongue over the bite on his thigh. "I'll let you have just one more, than it is your turn to pleasure me."

"Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> [My Pillowfort](http://pillowfort.social/babybatscreations)


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